Valkyrie
by cuticlecareenetwork
Summary: She could not remember any of her former life. Just the long millenia of this life as a handmaiden of Odin, rushing to the battlefields, choosing the deserving and flying the warriors up to Valhalla. When she bore down the chosen with her black raven wings, some had shrieked in terror. Some had been greedy for the glory. Only one looked at her with wonder. AU M chaps marked.


She could not remember what it was like to be alive.

She could not remember for sure the faces of her mother or father – just snatches of memories like the sound of her mother's laugh and the sound of her father's voice, lovely and deep, singing whilst twirling her round.

What she remembered was the pain, the sadness weighing heavy on her, as she ran and ran and ran. She ran, leaving all the pain and death behind, towards the light like her mother told her to with her dying breath. And she remembered the feel of the grass underneath her bare feet, the wind in her tear-streaked face and the smell of the meadow flowers.

She ran until her chest hurt and her breaths came out in gasps. She ran until she was tired and fell to the ground, sobbing. The next thing she remembered was being picked up. She looked up. A woman, all gold and light, was holding her, her eyes were kind. And when she spoke, Beca did not just hear the words. She felt the words reverberated into her soul.

"You are one of us now."

* * *

**Present, post-apocalyptic future**

Beca.

No last name. There's no last name when you were a handmaiden of Odin. She took off the helmet, noting she needed to clean and buff it before the next mission. She didn't like wearing it very much, preferring to have her long brunette hair flew free. That was one of the joys of flying – feeling the wind cast your hair back.

She loved flying. That moment when she unfurled that span of blacker than midnight wings behind her, feeling the weight across her back, the slight ruffling of the wind in her feathers. The moment when she ran and kicked off hard off the ground and feeling the air take her. That slight tense of her wings when she was hanging, airborne and against gravity for one sweet moment, before they beat and control the air flowing through. That feeling of peace as she glide, the wind carrying her like a lover. That giddiness and light feeling in her head as she swooped down, heart beating furiously. The views were amazing too.

Flying was glorious; simply glorious.

The other Valkyries had their own preferred method of travelling. Some was happy riding those white flying horses. It was less tiring, of course. Especially if you have to carry a huge warrior up to Valhalla. Especially if said warrior, who had no compunctions hacking and lobbing another man's head with a mean hatchet but screamed like a girl when flying. She also could not stand all the grooming and poop scooping needed with having a horse. No thank you. She was more than happy with her mechanical wings.

Besides, that black raven wings suit her look. Beca ran her hand through her messy hair, cascading in curls behind her. She adjusted the buckles on her chest. She had a tight black leather jumpsuit on; fitting her curves very nicely. None of that sexy Valkyrie outfit of short skirts and metal breastplates molding unrealistically on over-abundant bosom. Beca had to laugh when she thought about that. She wondered which fevered horny teenager or nerd dreamt up of that costume for a valkyrie. The tight black leather outfit she had on was practical - it shielded her from the cold when flying and any sort of grazes if she landed badly. Beca scoffed. Whom is she kidding? - she never landed badly. She was as graceful as a...as a bird.

One other thing - she did not thundered onto a battlefield wielding a huge-ass sword longer than her and a jewel encrusted shield. There was no need for that. All the fighting would have been done. She was flying so she needed to keep it light. Just a sharp, practical dagger on her belt and a light foldable bow with a small quiver of arrows. And oh, this rather sexy and lethal gun, holstered around her hips. Yes, she was very happy with her outfit.

Except for this very stupid helmet.

Beca looked distastefully at the helmet again. She hated it. It was gold and and silver and shiny, with tiny wings at the side. The only good thing was the visor but other than that it was just a silly, tinfoil kind of hat. Health and Safety – she thought sourly – Bloody Health and Safety. Like it was not dangerous enough to go hurtling through the air and landing in the middle of the battlefield. Like a ceremonial, winged helmet like this stupid trinket will protect your head. Like hello? She is an immortal? Damn Aubrey with her rules!

"Brynhilde."

Shit. It's like she knew I'm having murderous thoughts about her. Beca turned.

"Beca. Call me Beca." She scowled. "What do you want Aubrey?"

The tall blonde's mouth twisted a little as she looked at the brunette, who was now scowling up at her. Her eyes narrowed on her dusty black outfit before homing on the slight dent on the helmet she was carelessly holding in her hand. Aubrey's mouth tightened as she slowly clicked her pen and scrawled something onto her clipboard.

Beca just arched an eyebrow, not saying another word. Aubrey unclicked her pen and cleared her throat loudly.

"Report to Quartermaster and get that helmet fixed." Aubrey said drily. "You are down ten helmets already."

"They are useless." Beca said. "I only had to turn my head and there you go; a dent."

"It could have been your head that is dented," Aubrey answered, a little shrill. She was quite proud of her helmet initiative. Head concussions went down by 5% when she introduced the helmets. It did coincide with Odin's orders for no drinking before a mission but still.

"While you are with the Quartermaster, get the regulation uniform please. I know the last time you complained they didn't have your size. I made sure they made a skirt and breastplate in your size," Aubrey said primly. "And you should start using your Norse name. The one Mother gave you."

Beca just scowled deeper. She did not want that uniform or that rather poncey name. It was hard to pronounce and even her own tongue get tied up and knotted round it. Plus the others always shortened it to B and she'll be damned before she let anyone call her Bee. Beca was fine. It was the only thing she had left from her old life.

"You might want to clean yourself up a little," Aubrey said. "Father wants to see you."

Beca rolled her eyes. Why was Aubrey still talking? Oh, now Father wanted to see her.

"Ermm.. I can't. I'm just on my way out," Beca said hurriedly, jamming the helmet on and fiddling with her wings.

"But I thought you just came back..."

Aubrey was interrupted by a high operatic note and they both swung round towards the inner doors. A white winged stallion came riding through, clattering to a halt. A buxom, rubenesque valkyrie was sitting aside the steed. She was certainly dressed in regulation uniform. Huge chest melons strapped in polished, gold breastplate. Axe and shield strapped on. Horned helmet instead of a winged one. Blonde hair in pigtails.

"Herja.." Aubrey greeted the new arrival.

"Eh. It's Fat Herja to you." The blonde valkyrie said, hefting the axe in her muscular arm. "Or Amy. Fat Amy"

Aubrey was now rubbing her temples. Fat Amy had took one look at the scene and then sung out loudly, "Ready to go, Beca?"

"Erm. Oh yes." Beca quickly said, throwing Amy a grateful look. "Gotta go, Aubs!"

"Brynhilde! Father wants to see you."

Amy had started singing out notes from Flight of the Valkyries very loudly and she spurred her steed.

"Can't hear you!" Beca said, motioning to Fat Amy. Her wings were unfolding now, nearly knocking Aubrey off her feet. She batted the wingtips away with her clipboard and sneezed. The white stallion cantered before breaking into a gallop and jumping off the edge, white wings spread out. Fat Amy's loud operatic notes hung a second in the air.

"Sorry! Got to go. Souls to save. Warriors to deliver." With that, Beca started to limber up before running and jumping off the edge of the opened bay.

"Brunhilde! Come back!" Aubrey shouted fruitlessly.

"My name is Beca!" came the shout back.

* * *

Odin was staring out onto the vast plains. The height where the throne room was gave a beautiful vista of that was Valhalla. His eyes caught that swirl of black wings coming out of containment bay, furiously beating before swooping down.

He did not need that little crackle and hiss that came over his comms system to tell him what he already knew.

"Father, I am so sorry. Brunhilde was on her way out. But she knew you wanted to see her." Aubrey's voice came out and clear, perhaps a little nervous.

"This is Raogrior reporting." Aubrey added a second later, using her Norse name, anxious to keep the protocol.

"Aubrey, I know it's you." Odin said, trying to keep his chuckle down. Not that he did not like using the Norse names. In this case, Aubrey's name was very apt. Amongst the many meanings it had, one of them was "the bossy one."

"It's fine. I'll catch her when she comes back."

Odin switched off the comms before another squawk came back from Aubrey. He easily caught sight of Beca's wings now gliding along the lower terraces before flying off the horizon.

It's always the brunettes - he mused - It is always the brunettes that bring him trouble.


End file.
